


New York, New York

by eldersmcpriceley



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: AU, Credence just wants to watch quidditch, Ilvermorny, Kind of underage but not really, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Quidditch, Quidditch fic, Thunderbird - Freeform, Wampus, graves is a beater
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-09
Updated: 2017-01-09
Packaged: 2018-09-14 07:57:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9169555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eldersmcpriceley/pseuds/eldersmcpriceley
Summary: After several hits and sloth grip rolls, Dash, the Wampus seeker, stood on his broom before diving after the golden snitch, leaving his broom behind. A dramatic intake of breath was heard throughout the stadium as he fell down towards the ground with the golden ball in his hand. Soon, he started flapping his arms like a bird and beginning to be obviously panicked. As players played on, oblivious despite the silence, Percival looked to the audience, all but one dot in the crowd looking towards the falling boy.(or Credence just wants Percival to win and Percival just wants Credence)





	

**Author's Note:**

> disclaimer: I know little about how Ilvermorny works so this is a lot more like Hogwarts. Also, wtf is Quodpot. They play Quidditch, not Quodpot. Credence is a little behind so he's a 15 year old in second year. Percival is in his fourth year so he's 16.

"Percy! Whack this out!"

Percival saw one of the Bludgers coming in slow motion. He dived down as it passed him, bat in hand before pulling his arm back and thrusting the ball away from the ground to his team mate. The crowd roared as the other teams Chaser was hit and Scarlett banners flew up in success.

This was the final match of his fourth year. Soon it'd be back to New York to play Quodpot with his more familiar team, where he was ranked because of his ability to play, not his popularity in his house.

They were a good fifty points ahead of Horned Serpent and that was all thanks to Percival himself. The balls zoomed too and fro on the pitch and most of his team couldn't keep up, Horned Serpent's best player Picquery had just knocked out the Scarlett teams Seeker as the Snitch was released by 'accidentally' missing the bludger as the Seeker was busy behind him for the release of the Snitch. As the Bludger came hurtling back towards Percival, Picquery flew inches away from him, temporarily blocking his view before having a close shave with the iron ball which Percival managed to swerve from. His breathing was becoming erratic. The game had been going for an hour already and soon Professor Frisken would have to stop the match due to curfews, and Percival would consider it a victory for Wampus. 

After several hits and sloth grip rolls, Dash (he was really called Dawson but the nickname had stuck after he auditioned for the team), the Wampus seeker, stood on his broom before diving after the golden snitch, leaving his broom behind. A dramatic intake of breath was heard throughout the stadium as he fell down towards the ground with the golden ball in his hand. Soon, he started flapping his arms like a bird and beginning to be obviously panicked. As players played on, oblivious despite the silence, Percival looked to the audience, all but one dot in the crowd looking towards the falling boy. 

Said dot was focused on something else, slightly adjacent to the flapping (in Percivals words) idiot. Their dark hair was almost static in the aggressive wind and their hands were nor over their mouth or clutching their heart. He sat still in the stalls beside Percival's house mates. Soon, before Percival could realise, there was no more tension in the audience and a person, holding a winged object was swooping past him in delight. His eyes moved around as an uproar of screams and claps became present and the game was finished by the noise of a horn. Before he could lower to the ground, he looked back to the dot who was now smirking and somewhat pleased without verbally granting it. They looked up and Percival pushed forward on the broom, moving towards the person who was becoming clearer and hoping that those around him were taking notice of their surrounding as he wasn't. Just as he was about the start hovering above the crowd, the students in the stands were being hurried out and soon the dot was gone.

"Percy, come down!" Dirk shouted up from the ground. He looked down before pushing his body weight to the side, "We won! The house cup is going to be ours."

Percival smiled, holding his broom beside him as he followed his team into the changing rooms where they'd have a speech from the seventh year Captain about how 'amazing' and 'faultless' they played, followed by a group hug. He wasn't against his team, they were the people he knew the best, but without his famous last name and the broom he could afford, he probably wouldn't be chosen as Beater. He'd much rather go up to the common room and up to bed. It had been a long term.

His OWLS were coming up and he barely had the capability to recite simple levitation charms while under the spell of sleep deprivation. He just wanted to go back to New York and his Quodpot team. At least he didn't have to revise for Quodpot.

*

The morning after, Percivals case was packed and all he needed to do was eat.

Today was the last feast. The Wampus banners would be flown in the round hall of Ilvermorny and his house would cheer before tucking into a meal fit for a king. Generally, Percival would sit around his team and eat as slow as possible as everyone around him grabbed at food and piled their plate high with meats and breads. He, on the other hand, would take a chicken leg and neatly cut it before eating it and then deciding if he wanted more. 

He put on the cranberry and blue robes, fixed it with the golden knot before walking down into the quiet common room. He knew he wasn't late, everyone just seemed eager to get down to the hall these days and he simply didn't see the point.

He jogged down the castle stairs and into the gardens. It was the long way round, he knew, but it was much more scenic. Their was a river that ran out of the castle grounds that he knew, somewhere down the watery line ended up in New York. 

Before re-entering the building he saw, in the corner of his eye, a dark fog. The day was bright and he knew that in a school of witchcraft and wizardry the source was probably magical.

What he hadn't been expecting was the source not coming from a wand, but a person. A dark haired, static figure sitting on the ground, leaning against a stone pillar, hunched over so their face was not to be seen.

Percival pulled out his own wand as he approached what could only be described as a mass in that moment. The body, even if it was covered by fog, was beginning to seizure and soon the pale face was revealed.

The dot in the stalls.


End file.
